


perceptions are perverse creatures, and assumptions only deceive

by a_mind_at_work (Madame_Marauder)



Series: drips and drabbles [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Burr may or may not have actual emotions, Canon Era, History lesson in the end notes I guess, I tried way too hard to make this plausible, In which Angelica is paranoid, Madison is perpetually digging for dirt, Other, This was meant to be part of embers but turned into its own thing, and Hamilton is really not as bad of a person as people think he is, jefferson is an asshole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 03:07:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12718389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madame_Marauder/pseuds/a_mind_at_work
Summary: an orphan boy; an old friend; loyalty to found familyor, three times people made assumptions about Alexander Hamilton.





	perceptions are perverse creatures, and assumptions only deceive

   Oh, it had been years since the Reynolds affair, years since the disgraced Maria had left the city with her daughter, years since any trouble of that sort at all. The public had mostly gotten over it, though it was occasionally dredged back up by desperate politicians. The family had mostly gotten over it, though James and Alexander Jr. were still cold towards their father at times.

   But though Eliza had never once let it bother her, Angelica still cannot find any reason Alexander should leave around dawn every Saturday morning, and arrive home in the late afternoon looking just slightly disheveled. No good reason, at least.

   And Burr has raised this same question, now, and Angelica knows he will have his answers one way or another.

   So she informs her sister she will be spending the day with an old friend, a woman who paints, and will be off in time to watch the sun rise alongside her. And then she follows Alexander.

   His first stop takes a long while, as he winds through the city, but eventually he slips inside a small bakery. “Usual?” the man behind the counter asks lightly- much too chipper for being up before dawn, she would never understand how people did this every day- and Alexander only has to smirk.

    The baker hands over a small wrapped package, and Alexander tucks it under his arm and pays him, then leaves with a quiet wave and goodbye.

    Angelica has to duck backwards abruptly to keep him from seeing her, but she manages it nonetheless. The trailing continues.

    Is it a bit ridiculous for her to be stalking her brother-in-law across the city? Yes. But he won't tell anyone where he goes, and it's just plain fact that her curiosity must be satisfied. Not to mention, if he is in the wrong and Burr finds out first… well. That simply cannot be allowed to happen.

     It's another long, overly convoluted path to his second stop, a paper picked up on the way. Useful for information, even more useful for blending in with a crowd. Angelica thanks herself for wearing such a simple and understated dress, one meant for garden work. By the part of town they're near, she's well-dressed indeed.

    But then Alexander knocks on the door, and she's pulled out of her thoughts. Especially and most specifically as Aaron Burr draws her eye by positioning himself to better watch whatever is about to happen. Oh, there had best be an utterly brilliant explanation for this for Alexander to offer if confronted.

    A small girl squeaks happily as she opens the door, and several other children crowd around her at the noise, spilling out onto the steps to greet him. A tall, thin boy looks over their heads and smiles. “Mr. Hamilton!”

    Alexander bows overdramatically to the group, making several of the younger children giggle, then replies. “Robert. Is Miss Kathryn out today?”

    Robert shakes his head. “No, just calming Lucy down after a scraped knee. You know how the little ones can be.”

    “Don't I just,” Alexander agrees, and Angelica gawks as he trades pleasantries with the middle-aged woman who's appeared in the doorway. His older children are bitter towards him, that's true, but it still somehow baffles her that he'd be visiting an orphanage. But then Robert moves and draws attention to the leather cord around his neck, and everything clicks into place as she sees the partial locket hanging there. The partial locket that makes a perfect match to the odd inlay on the back of Alexander’s pocket watch, the partial locket that's the other half of a brother's promise.

     The woman ushers everyone back inside, gratefully accepting the package from the bakery in the process, and as the door closes Angelica can see Robert light up at Alexander’s side, talking nearly as fast as the man himself is known to.

     She nods to herself, and leaves Burr to his ridiculous plots and Alexander to spend time with his nephew he could only harm by dragging him into the spotlight.

* * *

 

     Madison knows Hamilton has no real reason to accept a dinner invitation to Mount Vernon, and he knows even more so that if he intended to head directly there he would not have left as soon as he did. He knows that Hamilton is up to something, and he knows that he is by all means going to figure out what that thing is.

     He sends quick letters out to friends, and the replies trickle in. _Hamilton is passing through, but no political stunts yet. Hamilton stopped in town, then continued on his way without any fanfare. No word, no word, no word._

      It's a reply from Charleston that gives him pause- there's no way the federalist should be that far south, and the letter was only sent because the other James knows absolutely _everything_ of importance, but the response has Hamilton staying in town for a night or two before heading back north.

     To Madison, that's a red flag, a pointless detour to someone who doesn't do anything pointlessly. And so he reaches out for more information, but the closest he gets is _not my secret to tell, I'm afraid._ Which is maddening.

     After weeks and weeks of back and forth, his friend finally ends the discussion with, _ask Hamilton if you must. Secrets between one man and the cold hard ground are not worth telling._

     Madison gets Burr to find out, and the answer he has been so chasing turns out to be no more than a shade. “Visiting an old friend of ours,” Burr says, something pained in his tone. “He had a glass of that awful, cheap wine we used to drink and spent a few hours with Laurens, then went to Washington’s the next morning. You're running after ghosts, Madison. There's nothing for us to use here.”

      It takes another day and a half, and a glance at an old paper for him to take Burr’s words literally.

* * *

 

    Jefferson will have his victory over this, one way or another.

     “Did you forget Lafayette?”

     He's prepare for a snap, a flinch, maybe even a shove and a rant. What he is not prepared for, however, is the incendiary rage in the Treasury Secretary’s every cell as he's caught by the collar and pulled down to face him. “Excuse me?”

    Behind his smooth facade, Jefferson is very quickly reminded that this is a very dangerous man he plays these games with, someone who has tall tales about his temper in his younger years. Friends of Jefferson’s who were officers in the Continental Army tell stories about how quickly Hamilton’s anger could flare if provoked just so.

     He's provoked him, that much is clear. For real this time. Insults about his origins, his politics, his intelligence and infidelity- Hamilton will seethe, snap at him, rip into him in the papers. But questioning his loyalty to a friend? Well. This was interesting.

     “Did you forget Lafayette?” Jefferson asks again. “He supported this revolution greatly. Made it a priority above h-”

     Like a flashing thunderbolt- no, a cracking whip, that has the right driving fury behind it- Hamilton all but growls at him, his tone cold and slicing as he spits out, “I have exactly two French priorities at the moment, for your information, both of whom go by G. Lafayette. Or are you the one pleading with foreign governments to release your dear friend from solitary confinement in a prison reputed to have conditions worse than the mutual six worst months of your lives? Or, or, are you the one playing host to a traumatized teen whose countrymen are baying for his father's blood, his cousins’ heads?”

     Words seem to escape Jefferson in that moment, and Hamilton pushes him away in disgust. “I didn't think so. I’m afraid it appears, Mr. Secretary, that _you_ are the one who has forgotten Lafayette.”

      So _that's_ how far you have to push Hamilton to get him to respond with fire blazing. Good to know. 

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. We know basically nothing about what Alexander's older brother did with his life; he was apprenticed to a carpenter, and that's basically where his detailed paper trail ends. Alex tried to keep in touch both with his brother and his father, though... it was pretty one-sided. But it's historically plausible for there to have been some favors done for family/some illegitimate children/unknown children.
> 
> 2\. Again, historically plausible if you wiggle the dates around some. Didn't happen, though.
> 
> 3\. Lafayette was a smart man- but he was most certainly was not fine. He was nearly killed by the rebels (though he was mostly on their side, he was a noble), and then fled to Austria, where he was imprisoned for several years in terrible conditions, one of which was in solitary confinement. His son Georges (yes, the one named after GWash) went to America to avoid capture/torture/death, and was taken in by the Hamiltons.
> 
> So. Historically shady but possible!!!!!!!
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated.  
> Screech about our dead gay sons with me on my Tumblr: discount-satan


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